This is why I should just go to sleep when I get home from an exhausting day instead of trying to work on my stories. My brain gets weird ideas when it's tired.

There is a small town at the edge of Tokyo. Simple. Ordinary. Or so it seems. The people are friendly and calm and really quite normal.

Well, mostly, that is.

The ones who haunt it, who linger invisible, are not.

At least, not always.

And some of them… Well. They are unusual, so to say.

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A child, newly dead, is weeping with big, ugly sobs on the roadside. Mind still stuck on the bloody mess that was his death, his pain reflected by his dishevelled appearance.

A shadow looms over him, drawing the young boy from his grief.

He looks up, tears and blood staining his cheeks. Eyes widen.

"Hello," the creature says, mask a pattern of white and red that makes it look both scary and awesome, especially in combination with the sunset-orange hair, the long, thick tail, and the wicked claws. Like a creature from a movie. Large and strong and… like a dragon, or something. Something really cool.

"Are you alright?" the creature asks, sounding more like an older boy than the scary monster it looks like.

New tears fall. "I-I was hit," the child stutters, trying not to look down at his mangled form. "They hit me and they just drove on…."

The creature makes a sympathetic sound. "That's horrible. I would eat them for you, but we don't think we would want them with us."

The boy blinks. Thinks of people getting eaten, and focuses on something else. "Who's 'we'?" he asks curiously.

The creature hums and closes its eyes. The boy watches with awe as it shifts and warps, becoming something more slender and taller, with a face like an unpainted porcelain doll and long, wavy hair. "We're 'us'," it says in a completely different voice. A lady's voice this time. Nice. Kind. The way his mommy's voice is when she comforts him. Comforted him.

His mommy, who is not here, and who could not see him the one time she came to leave flowers and one of his stuffed toys. He still doesn't understand why she would put such a pretty bouquet on the side of the road. Isn't that wasteful? At least his toy is understandable. He likes having it back, even though he can't touch it anymore.

He is very confused and sad and lonely, and the nice creature is more company than he has had in a long time.

So when it – they? – asks, "Would you like to join our afterlife?" he says yes.

Too late, he realizes that the afterlife the creature speaks of can only be reached through its maw.

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They remember a time when things were different. When they didn't roam the streets like ghosts and didn't share a body between the five of them.

They remember their home, their precious things. All sold or given to strangers by people they don't know because they can no longer lay claim on it.

They remember their friends, who can no longer see or hear them.

They remember being happy.

They also remember what stole all those things from them.

They remember the surprise and terror on that fated evening, as something burst through the wall without any warning. Fangs first, to close its jaws around him too fast for him to react, snapping arms and ribs and crushing the life from him with its molars.

The fear when the monster ate dad, and their mom tried to fight the thing, only to fall to cruel claws and crueller fangs.

The horror when it followed them as they fled, their little sister stumbling and falling, never to rise again on those legs. The pain when the monster crushed her lower body.

The anger, the hatred, when their other sister is killed too, claws raking crimson trails over her back. She couldn't run as fast as he, and she meets her end with a scream.

It all went so fast.

The final rage, the anger at the thing that stole everything from him in just a matter of minutes, the world becoming a blur as he roared his grief to the sky and charged at the nightmare come to life.

They remember the burn and darkness of dying and death. Of a laughing, grinding voice and the ache of being squeezed till bones snapped with a cringe-worthy sound, before jaws the size of a small car close around them.

They remember waking, their brother, son, self in control. Body twisted to monstrous proportions. Their family confused voices inside them.

It was all jumbled. All a mess. Still is, a little. Nowadays they are better at telling each other apart. At differentiating between 'I' and 'other'.

Still not very good, but good enough that they can tell which parts belong to 'Ichigo', and which to 'Masaki' and 'Isshin' and 'Yuzu' and 'Karin'. Good enough for the tangled pieces of Isshin to gather fragments of memories to find the door to the world within them.

Once there, telling themselves apart is no longer a problem. They are not really separate there, but far more separate than they are when they are all clamouring around inside the same head. But they can't stay there all the time. Not all of them. Someone has to be in control of their body.

So they switch. Each of them spending some time in control. It takes them a while to master the switching, but then it is as smooth as stepping around each other.

Each time they switch their body transforms with them. Each of their forms has its own advantage. Its own abilities.

Switching around is fun. But even though they are together they are still lonely.

Lonely. And hungry.

So very, very hungry it gnaws at them.

They look through their shared eyes at a lost little soul haunting a playground. Bits of Isshin and Masaki remember what beings like them eat. None of them really like the idea.

If we eat them and they end up in our heads, what will happen to us? comes from the part of them that was Yuzu. We don't want monsters in our heads…

They all contemplate the problem. There are no easy solutions to their dilemma, they discover. Human food does nothing for them.

… Maybe it will be okay if we only eat the nice ones? the part that used to be Karin suggests. Uncertain. Wary. They know it is not really a nice solution at all.

They all consider it anyway.

They would end up in our world, I think, their self that was Isshin says with dismay.

We could offer them a home, a fragment of Masaki whispers softly, hesitantly. Longingly. We can't send them on to the real afterlife, but it is better than another monster. We could make it a good place….

It takes long, with a lot of bickering and arguments, but in the end they all agree that they don't want to starve, and if they have to share their world with others, they prefer them to be nice. Not like the one who stole so much from them, who was angry and raging and rampaging through their world before they gathered and defeated it.

We can't stay here though, Isshin says softly, quietly, as he digs through fractured knowing. The self he once was is slowly getting absorbed by their collective self, soothing his outrage and horror at what they have become. I had friends… Other friends. They will not leave us alone. They are likely looking for us now.

They understand what the Isshin-part of them means. They have managed to hide so far, but they won't be able to keep that up forever. Not in this town.

Well then. The solution is simple really.

They leave the town and their old home behind.

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They find a new town, in a new city. They are happy there. It has a lot of shrines, and many souls gather in those places in the hope that someone there can send them on. They watch and select the ones they want, and once the souls accept their offer they send them on in their own way, drawing them into their world and self-made afterlife. They soon learn that some of their forms are better at making souls trust them than others. It differs between souls, but with time they learn what kind of soul to approach in what way, and the number of souls who accept their offer rises drastically.

It is good living. They are never hungry. Shortly after arriving they discovered that they can make doors to other worlds, and to a place between them, which puts them a bit more at ease. Whenever their skin prickles and the hairs on the back of their necks threaten to rise, they hide there. They do not know what causes those sensations, but they obey their instincts regardless. It is safer that way.

They do not notice the passing of time, but several times the trees drop their flowers and leaves, and whiteness covers the ground. They enjoy the changes, even though they no longer care what they mean. Flowers, and leaves, and snow are still pretty no matter what they are.

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Fukiyuki Itsuki decides he hates patrolling the Human World, as he peers around him and feels more and more like a paranoid person. Not because the humans aren't interesting, but because not having a team with him agitates him too much. At least on missions within Soul Society they only ever send teams into the field. The Human World is too big for that, and the Hollows are usually of low enough level that a Shinigami can handle them on his own.

Itsuki knows he probably can handle it, but that does not mean he is enjoying being a nervous wreck right now. he's constantly afraid a Hollow will sneak up on him. His denreishinki should warn him if one is close, and it does, but, well… Itsuki just can't trust the little device with his life. He heard the stories about everything that can go wrong when your equipment malfunctions without warning, thank you.

In fact, his senpai went out of their way to tell him all of them. In great detail.

They are assholes.

It doesn't help that the area is known for harbouring a strange Hollow. Or group of Hollows, no one is quite sure. There are sightings, but only from plusses who talked to it, which was weird enough to almost break the Science Division's brains, and quite a few other brains as well.

No Shinigami is known to have met it, but several mysterious disappearances are attributed to it nonetheless.

And despite all the creepiness, people expect him to patrol the area.

Assholes.

There is a soft, almost unnoticeable sound behind him. Itsuki whirls around, hand already halfway to his Zanpakutou.

"Oh, look-y, it's a Shinigami!"

Itsuki feels his jaw sag. Before him is a huge Hollow, two stories tall and shoulders almost half that wide. Its mask is decorated with blue swirls for eyebrows and a permanent cheerful grin that nearly takes up the full lower half of its face. It looks like a tough opponent.

It also seems unreasonably enthusiastic.

Itsuki gathers his wits and draws his Zanpakutou. He doesn't have time to contemplate why a Hollow would be so enthusiastic to see a Shinigami. He doesn't want to know.

Despite the rigidity of the mask, its grin seems to widen.

"Sorry Shinigami, but we can't let you do that. We don't like people trying to stab us," the Hollow says cheerfully.

Ice sluices down Itsuki's spine. "'We'?"

"Yes!" the Hollow confirms and lunges at him. For something that big it is very fast.

Itsuki jumps aside, all the while franticly checking his surroundings for the other part of the mysterious 'we'. If this Hollow works together with another one he's screwed.

He flees into a narrow alley, hoping the creature does not know how easily they can move through walls if they want. On the other side is a park, where he'll have more room and a better view of his surroundings.

Behind him there's a laugh, and when he takes the risk to glance over his shoulder he nearly stumbles in surprise.

The Hollow pursuing him isn't the large Hollow he expects, but a small one that might reach a little past his shoulders should they stand next to each other. It does not look much like a Hollow. If anything, it vaguely resembles a kitten, with delicate little paws and a fluffy tail. It has a mask that under different circumstances he would have acknowledged to be cute, and a body covered in fur that has patches of different colours that no normal cat would ever have. Overall it looks more like a soft toy that would sell well to the Shinigami Women Association than a Hollow.

Given that's it's a soul-eating monster chasing him through a dark alley with energetic bouncing jumps, its cuddly appearance takes on a rather nightmarish quality. And that doesn't even take into consideration that he does not know where the big Hollow went.

"Gonna catch you,~" the Hollow behind him giggles. Its voice sounds like a little girl, sing-songy and sunny, and about as adorable as its looks. The thing is getting creepier by the second.

Itsuki shoots out of the alley and across the street, to the fortunately deserted park. He comes to a halt in the middle of a large grassy field and takes a ready position.

The Hollow bounces to a stop before him, head tilted as if trying to figure out why he's no longer running.

Then it does something completely unexpected. It shivers, and changes shape.

Where the kitten-like Hollow stood is now a Hollow about the same size, but with a long and sleek body and a more aggressive mask. It reminds him a little of a stoat, if stoats ever came in that size.

Then it pounces.

With a yelp, Itsuki barely manages to deflect its claws, pushing the Hollow back. It bounces on its feet, but not in the way it did in its previous form. More fluid, and with an odd twisting motion running through its body as it turns to charge at him again.

He quickly learns that it is fast and flexible, dancing around his sword strokes as if it's playing. A more dangerous game than the chase it gave him in its other form and somehow more predatory. It doesn't help that the Hollow now has such an inky colour that it is hard to track in the dark, though the dim light from the moon and from the decorative rows of street lanterns that follow the park's winding paths helps.

After several minutes it stops and lets out a huff, as if annoyed. It still sounds childlike.

Then it shifts shapes again.

How many form does this thing have? Itsuki thinks incredulously as he backs away from the new form towers over him. Tall as the burly Hollow he still hasn't seen again, but slender like a tree. This form resembles a woman in a long, flowing cloak, down to the very mask. It is a very graceful Hollow.

It opens its mouth, but instead of words glowing shafts that resemble arrows come out with great speed. Itsuki raises his sword in a block on reflex and cries out when several graze him, drawing trails of fire and blood over his limbs.

"W-what?" he breathes, mentally cursing the creature. Hollows are not supposed to have more than one truly special ability!

He doesn't have time to pay more thought to the mystery, as he has to flee for his life from the rain of arrows the Hollow shoots at him. He has not the slightest chance of blocking them all. He bolts, lambasting curses on his Captain for sending him here, and on himself for picking such an open spot to fight. It certainly isn't an advantage anymore. With one hand he digs through the pocket of his shihakushou, frantically searching for his denreishinki so he can send an S.O.S. to Seireitei.

Pain lances through his leg, and he falls. When he looks back he sees a glowing shaft stick out of his calf, and he swallows thickly.

He is so fucked.

All breath whooshes out of him as the Hollow lands on his back, pressing him to the ground with slim, clawed hands.

"We don't want more Shinigami after us," the creature says, almost regretful. "You'll have to make choice now. Either we'll kill you or you join our afterlife. What do you want?"

Itsuki blinks, too stunned to figure out the correct answer and too out of breath to give it even if he could.

The Hollow seems almost sympathetic. "Do you want to go to our afterlife? It's a nice place," it assures him. "We think you might like it there."

Itsuki nervously licks his lips and tries to stall. "W-what kind of afterlife?" he gasps.

"Ours!" it exclaims cheerfully as it shifts back into its disturbingly cute cat form. "We'll show you!"

He only manages to let out a terrified yelp as its mask splits among a previously invisible seam, turning the tiny snout into a toothed maw that stretches from one side to the other.

Then its jaws close around him, and he's gone.

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Warm, bright sunlight falls on his face, waking him with its glare. He opens his eyes a smidgen, then groans and rolls over, not caring that he's in the middle of a grassy field and runs the risk of getting earth up his nose.

He sighs and breathes in the scent of crushed grass, happy and relaxed, and above all, relieved.

A nightmare. It was all just a nightmare.

A scary, terrible, wonderful nightmare. That isn't real at all.

He could cry in relief right now. Instead he prepares to lay here for a little longer and simply bask.

"See! Told you you'd like it!"

With a shrill scream Itsuki bolts upright and scrambles away from the voice of the scary-cute Hollow.

"Hello, we're Yuzu!"

Where he expected the Hollow there is a little girl. A little girl with soft brown hair, and round brown eyes that are almost sparkling. He has never been good with guessing ages, but she can't be older than ten in human years. Next to her is another girl that looks about the same age. Quieter but looking just as curious, with hair dark as the body of the stoat-like form, and a more wary look.

"Yuzu-chan, give him some time to adapt," comes the gentle scolding. This time it's the voice of the tall and slender form, but instead there's a woman. Still tall and slender, but completely human in her appearance.

The only things that link the three to the different forms of the Hollow he fought besides their voices are the traces of bone on their skins and their masks. The woman's mask rests on her breasts atop her very human-looking light summer dress, like a unusually large pendant. The girls wear their masks crooked on their heads, like festival masks they temporarily shoved to the side. They too are dressed in human clothes.

Itsuki can only stare, utterly confused.

The woman extends a hand to help him up. "Hello, we are Masaki. These are our other selves, Yuzu and Karin."

After a moment, Itsuki finally manages to find his voice, and decides to ask the least offensive question he can come up with on short notice. "F-Fukiyuki Itsuki. W-why do you refer to yourself in plural?"

The woman smiles. Distantly Itsuki realizes it's a really nice smile. "We refer to us as 'we' because we are one."

Itsuki swallows. "You are the Hollow." Considers that. "All three of you are."

The three nod, all smiling. "And Ichi-nii and daddy!" Yuzu supplies happily.

Brother Ichi and daddy… Itsuki looks between the three and feels chilled to the bone. "… You're a family," he says numbly.

"We were," Masaki corrects him. "Now we are one."

Itsuki can't speak, and despite the memory of being eaten by them fresh in his mind, he feels sorry for the three before him. A whole family, forming a single Hollow. What kind of tragedy is so terrible that it would lead to something like this?

To distract himself he lets his eyes wander to his surroundings. The three have already eaten him. There is not much worse they can do to him. They don't seem aggressive anymore anyway.

His surroundings turn out to be a very good distraction. If he doubted he was eaten, this confirms it. The world before him is… a patchwork, he has no better words for it. Some places look like pieces of a great human city, with towers of glass and steel reaching towards the sky. Then there are areas that look like fragments of a quaint little village, with little houses with wooden doors and straw roofs and perfect little gardens in full bloom. Other parts look like they were ripped straight from the heart of an ancient forest. There are also grassy meadows full of flowers, like the one he's sitting in, and places where the ground is dark with glittering stone and mysterious, molten structures.

Even the sky has strange breaks in it, as if it is facetted and reflects different skies at the same time.

"Where am I?" he asks just to be sure.

"Our world," Masaki says brightly. "Our world inside our mind. It is our afterlife."

"Feel free to pick any place you like as your home," she adds, as if that is any of his concerns right now. "There are many others here who will welcome a new face."

As if on cue, someone with an exuberant, booming voice approaches them with speed.

"Masaki! Karin! Yuzu! Where's our newbie, I wanna meet him!"

Itsuki can't even bring up the energy to be surprised that it's the voice of the huge Hollow. Now all that's missing is the mysterious Ichi and then he has met the full set.

"He's here, dad!" Karin calls back.

Itsuki watches with trepidation as a large man approaches. With the parents both here the relation between the four is unmistakable. For a moment he wonders where the man has left his mask, until the man addresses Masaki and Itsuki spots it on the back of his head.

Why there? he wonders numbly.

"Hi, we're Isshin! Nice to meet another Shinigami!" Isshin says cheerfully, giving Itsuki an amiable slap on the back. Itsuki's face almost ends up in the grass.

"A-another?" he asks as he rises again.

Then he realizes what the other is wearing.

Not human clothes. A Shinigami uniform.

Part of the Hollow is Shinigami.

That revelation leaves him dazed enough that he barely notices when he's dragged off by the chipper man to pick out his new residence.

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After Itsuki they eat six more Shinigami. Every time they introduce a new one to the young Shinigami he looks like he's ready to cry. They are pleased they can make him so happy.

The seventh Shinigami, however, turns out to be quite different.

"Hello, Isshin. So here's where you've been all this time," a soft, sad voice says.

They startle badly, nearly falling off the roof of the shrine they are lounging on. They whirl around, eyes landing on a blond man with a green and white hat. They never even heard him approach them.

Beneath the unease, wariness, and sheer adrenaline, something rouses in them from Isshin's side. It is a faint sense of recognition and guilt. Their other selves grumble, not liking the feelings this man evokes in that part of them.

A name rises from memories thought long lost. "… Ki… suke," Isshin says, slow and puzzled. "I… remember you."

Grief glimmers in the blond man's eyes. "Do you? I have to say I am surprised to hear that. I thought you had forgotten everything."

They don't understand, but for some reason those words makes them wince.

Let me handle it, Masaki-self orders, and switches. Their self that is Isshin does not protest.

She rises up to take the position of their dominant part, and watches the blond man's eyes widen as their body changes with their shift. "What do you want from us?" she demands from him.

"Masaki?" he asks flabbergasted.

Masaki-self growls defensively, not liking how odd it is to meet someone who knows their different selves by name without them ever telling him. "Why do you know us?"

The blond man raises his hands. "I'm sorry, I am just surprised." He tips his hat up a little. "'Us'? Do you mean you and Isshin, or are there more of you?"

Masaki shifts their weight, wary, muscles tense and ready to jump into action at the slightest provocation. "We are us. All of us. We are not one or the other. Why do you want to know?" she says softly. Dangerously.

The man is unfazed. "Curiosity, really." His eyes are sharp and contemplative. They all decide they don't like that look.

Masaki attacks, a hail of slender white shafts raining from her mouth.

"Woah!" The man dodges, much to their dismay. The few shafts that come near him he deflects with his cane. They hate the cane on sight. "Hey now, we were talking, weren't we? This is really quite rude!"

Masaki hisses. "We don't want you here. Leave us alone."

The blond hums contemplatively. "I'm very sorry, Masaki-san, but I'm afraid I can't do that."

He runs a hand over his cane, talking to it in a way they can't understand but what makes alarm bells go off in their shared head.

"Sing, Benihime."

They spew another volley of energy shafts at him, but this time he does not even bother to dodge. A transparent crimson shield blocks all of them.

They growl in frustration, and their Ichigo-side almost shoves the part of themselves that is Masaki aside. She relinquishes the control of their body, and before they even have finished shifting they are already attacking the blond.

"Oh, now this one I think I can guess," the blond says as he retreats to avoid a blast of destructive black flames. "That hair is really unmistakable. Ichigo-kun, right?"

They snarl at him. Their side that is called Ichigo is very strong and fast, but even that part of them can't land a hit. The most they gets is the fabric of the man's haori in their claws.

It is very frustrating.

Their other sides the man recognizes as well, greeting each of them by their sides' names when they switch to them, which is even worse than not being able to catch him.

"Hello Karin-chan. You sure have gotten fast. Whoops, Yuzu-chan, I'm afraid that isn't very nice of you. Is that really how you were taught to greet an old family friend?"

They do not rise to his words, instead focussing fully on trying to defeat him. They switch faster than ever, trying to catch him off guard with one of their sides' abilities.

"Sit still!" their Ichigo-side yells finally. "You want to talk then join us! We can talk all you want then!"

"Join you? Like all those poor souls you've devoured 'joined you'? I think I'll pass, Ichigo-kun."

"They agreed to it!" they snap back, shifting to their part that is Masaki in the meantime, and hating how defensive they sound. "We asked and they said yes!"

The blonde shakes his head, looking sad. "While under different circumstances I would love to discuss things like morality and exactly what you've done to all those souls, I'm afraid I don't have the desire at the moment." He pauses, eyes hidden in the shadows of his hat. "I am truly very sorry, Kurosaki-san. Please forgive me, and find rest in the real afterlife."

The blond man truly looks like he regrets their fight deeply, they realize, as his blade sinks through their mask to bury itself into the space between their eyes.

Then a searing pain burns away whatever trace of consciousness they have left in a flash of red.

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There is a small town at the edge of Rukongai. Simple. Ordinary. Or so it seems. The people are friendly and calm, and unbothered by hardship. Mostly, at least. They don't like Shinigami much, especially not blond ones. But if a new soul wanders into their domain, or wakes up there in complete confusion, they just smile and greet them kindly.

And when the soul has sat down and starts smiling back hesitantly, they ask: "Would you like to join our afterlife?"